Connected
by KatyKalamity
Summary: Draco and Hermione are connected in a way no one should ever be connected to another. *invasion of privacy* hint hint. Draco/Hermione, Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Blaise/Luna R&R please!
1. Anger

A/N: Hello again. So, I'm back. Again. Again again again again. Sorry, I felt the need to retype that word many times. And I probably will again. See?! Told you. So…new fic. Dramione, obviously. Is there really any better pairing?

Disclaimer: Not mine, duh. It's all JKR's. Except for this plot, that's definitely mine. But if anyone wants to give me Tom Felton, I would definitely not object.

Chapter One: Anger

"What is that?" Hermione asked, pointing at a shiny object sticking out of a loose board near the corner of the trophy room. Malfoy didn't even spare a glance her way. She ignored him, just as she was used to doing. They were both in detention, something Hermione was adamantly sure was Malfoy's fault. It was his fault that he had baited Harry and Ron and her, not to mention he had almost gotten himself beaten into a bloody pulp. If it hadn't been for Slughorn, he would have bloody carnage where his face used to be.

No, it wasn't her fault he hated her guts. It wasn't her fault he called her a Mudblood. And it certainly wasn't her fault that Professor McGonagall had decided it best to separate the four of them, and decided the pair her with the ferret.

Not. Her. Fault.

Hermione pulled the shiny object out of the floorboard and examined it closely. It was a bracelet, and a nice one at that. It was silver and plain, but sparkled a little like silver shouldn't. When she looked on the inside, it read: Kann die Wahrheit der Gedanken hat gesetzt Sie befreien. Is that German?

May the truth of thoughts set you free.

She slipped it on her wrist experimentally, admiring it, even though it was a little large for her tiny arm. Immediately, the bracelet shrunk, and tightened around her wrist. She shook her arm, waiting for it to fall off like it should have. But it didn't. It stayed.

Malfoy continued to half-heartedly polish random trophies, cursing everyone and anything he could think of: Granger, Potty, Weasel, Slughorn, his father, and his friends, Theo and Blaise.

Randomly, he reached down and lightly polished the ring on his middle finger. It was a gift from his mother, and his most prized possession. It had belonged to his mother's father. It was a plain, silver band, with a single emerald, set deep in the silver, so small only he could see. He kind of liked it that way. There was rumor of another piece of jewelry that matched it, which was meant for his mother's mom, but this had gone missing before reaching his mother.

It really was a pity, he thought as he gazed down at it thoughtfully. He touched it lightly with his left hand, and felt his whole body shiver violently, and began feeling oddly cold.

Across the room, Hermione started shivering uncontrollably, still trying to desperately shake the bracelet off her wrist. She flipped it over to the clasp and reached out to unlock it, but it disappeared, much to her dismay.

"Malfoy?" she asked timidly. He turned around, rubbing his arms. His sneer was already in place, and she already wanted to slap him, just like she'd wanted to since they'd met.

"What, Granger?" he spat, and a wave of anger crashed over him. A wave of anger that wasn't his.

"Can you get this off me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Draco glanced at her wrist and recoiled immediately. "Granger, what have you done?"

A/N: So, this is a short chapter. Deal with it. I'll explain more in the next chapter, pinky promise. Review!!


	2. Listen

A/N: Thanks for the TWO reviews. That's right. TWO! So, unarosaesunarosa, thank you for your review, and you seemed pretty excited, and thank you, Secretly-In-Love, for the compliment. So I decided to continue the fic. Yeah, worship me. *insert smiley of your choice here*

Disclaimer: Tom Felton is all I wish to own. I own nothing but my plot. Don't sue me!!! I'm a mere teenager with no means to support myself! Take pity!

Chapter Two: Listen

"What do you mean, what have I done?" Hermione asked, her fingers jumping to push back her unruly hair that, over the years, had tamed somewhat to mere tendrils instead of just a frizzball. Draco narrowed his eyes at her and felt fear cloud his anger, and he blinked suddenly.

"That bracelet is an heirloom from Salazar Slytherin," he explained, trying to be patient.

She merely stared at him. "Meaning…?" she asked, waving her hand with the bracelet on it, making Draco wince. He hated that he had recognized the bracelet instantly, even though he'd never set eyes on it. He knew, without a doubt, that the bracelet on that Mudblood's wrist was the matching piece to the ring he was wearing on his right middle finger.

As soon as the thought stated itself in his mind, Hermione gasped. "This bracelet is a piece of a set? The one you're wearing?"

Malfoy jumped. "How did you know that?" he asked.

"I just heard it in my mind," Hermione confessed, shrugging. "You know, like a thought?"

A smirk painted itself across Malfoy's pale face. "I think you're mistaking me for Weasel, Granger," he said, deadpan.

"That's not what I meant, you lousy ferret!" she exclaimed, exasperated. He smirked, satisfied that he made her angry, and explained.

"My mother gave me this ring," he said, holding out his hand. "She said it was an heirloom from Salazar Slytherin that had been passed down from generation to generation from our family. There was another piece of jewelry, much like the one on your wrist, which matched my ring. My grandfather was supposed to give it to my grandmother."

Hermione was intrigued now. They had both abandoned cleaning, but had retreated to opposite sides of the room. "But what happened to it?"

"It was lost. Or stolen. No one really knows that happened to it. But it seems it was lost in Hogwarts, and now you found it."

"Well, that's great!" she said excitedly. She clapped her hands, and Draco's sneer deepened.

"Why, Granger, is that great?"

"Because if we found it, your family can get the heirloom back!"

Draco sighed, finally resigning himself to his frustration. "You don't understand, do you?" he asked. "I thought you were a know-it-all!"

Hermione looked taken aback. "It's not my fault I'm intelligent," she huffed.

"Well, if you would put those books down every now and then 'know-it-all' wouldn't be synonymous with 'Granger', would it?" he asked.

"Don't patronize me, arse," she snapped. "Just tell me how to get the damn thing off."

Malfoy looked surprised. "What do you mean, help?" he asked. "Just unclasp it."

Hermione held out her wrist. "See for yourself know-it-all," she mocked, waving her arm around. Malfoy peered at it, unwilling to touch her. The longer he stared, the more she waved.

Jesus, Granger, stop moving! He thought, enraged.

"Sorry," she said aloud, ceasing all movement at once.

"What are you talking about now?" he asked.

"You told me to stop moving," she said matter-of-factly.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out if she was messing with him or if he really heard what he had said in the confines of his mind. When he decided all he saw in the honey-colored eyes was pure confusion and a little frustration, he spoke. "I didn't say anything aloud, Granger."

"Yes you did!" she stomped her foot. "I heard you, loud and clear!" What a knuckle-head, she thought.

"Granger, I'm appalled," Malfoy mocked, feigning hurt. "How dare you call me a knuckle-head!"

Hermione looked shocked. "I didn't say that out loud," she said quietly.

"Aw, shit," Malfoy said, running his hands through his hair.

******

The next day, in Transfiguration, Hermione had almost forgotten about the bracelet on her wrist and what it did. She had done all the research last night after the dreadful detention, and figured out everything she needed to know.

The bracelet belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and, though she hated to think he could ever have one, his wife. It was a set presented as a wedding gift. The wearers could hear each others thoughts, and, to an extent, share the other's pain and happiness. The farther apart geographically the two became, the less they could sense, until they could sense nothing at all.

The one thing that upset Hermione the most was there was no way to get the bracelet off once it was on. At least, no one had ever needed to take it off before. Malfoys never got divorced. When one spouse died, so did the other, and the bracelet and the ring would come off on their own. The book she had read, Hogwarts Founders: After Life had made it seem like even if that bracelet came into the wrong hands by accident, the wearer was never to take it off. Deprivation of the intimacy of that connection once it was shared was devastating enough to kill.

And yet, it had said formerly there was no way to remove it.

Hermione was sure there was a way. And she resolved to find out what it was. But she might need Malfoy's help. All she needed to do was get him to speak to her, which he had flat out refused to do since last night. She couldn't even sense anything all morning, until he had entered the Great Hall. The emotions that had hit her were almost overwhelming enough to make her fall out of her chair. There was anger, frustration, and a cynical overlay to everything in life that made her day seem so much better in comparison. It seemed like Draco Malfoy had a lot on his mind, but Hermione just wasn't close enough, physically, to figure out what those things were.

Ron took a seat next to her and kissed her cheek tenderly. Hermione's thoughts strayed to her boyfriend. Now that they were together, she couldn't imagine ever being with anyone else. Being with Ronald was, comfortable. Familiar. She genuinely liked it.

She looked at his shaggy profile, debating whether a real kiss in public was trashy or not.

"Stop thinking what you're thinking, Granger," a voice drawled behind her.

Hermione whipped around and stared into Draco's cold steel eyes, and suddenly, she could hear everything.

And what she heard shocked her.

A/N: Alright, that's the end of Chapter TWO! Woot Woot!!! R&R. I have cookies for reviewers!!!!


	3. Shock

A/N: Dude! I got reviews!! I'm so excited. I would thank everyone individually, but I figure you want me to get right to the chapter, right? I thought so. So, thanks everyone, and keep reading!

Disclaimer: Don't sue! My name is not J.K. Rowling. Pinky promise. But I would not object to Tom Felton being mine. Just thought I'd bring that up, again.

Chapter 3: Shock

A vision filled Hermione's eyes. She was standing in a corner, covered covertly by the shadows. The house gave off a weird sense of foreboding. A tall, regal man with shoulder length silver hair was standing ominously at the center. Lucius Malfoy. He had his wand drawn and was pointing it at someone.

Hermione shifted herself about a foot and gasped in shock. Lucius had his own wand pointed at Draco. He had his wand drawn on his own flesh and blood. The man was seriously deranged. Draco had his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Hermione was alarmed to see a small ribbon of blood make its way down his carved cheek.

"I don't know what you want from me," he said, his teeth clenched together like his hands. Maybe in anger, maybe in pain. It was hard to tell. His father raised his wand again and Draco fell to his knees, his fists raised to his platinum hair. He seemed to be fighting the urge to scream.

Hermione, as much as she hated Draco, felt her heart go out to him at that moment. Until his father spoke up.

"You are supposed to be furthering yourself in the mission. Have you forgotten, Draco?" his father asked patronizingly, as if his son, who was in extreme pain, could answer. "We want the Granger girl dead. Do. You. Understand. Me?"

He withdrew his wand and Draco stood shakily. His sneer was still intact. Hermione thought she was going to faint. Draco was supposed to kill her? She steadied herself on the wall next to her.

"I am not like you," Draco spat. "I will not be told how to behave and who to kill."

His father raised his wand in warning, but Draco plowed on.

"She may be a Mudblood, but she has nothing to do with the mission. You know he only wants me to fail so he can kill me anyway. Well, I'm not doing what I did last year. I'm through with you."

"So what, you're going to be in the Order now, huh son?" he father said tauntingly, raising his wand. This time, Draco did scream. A piercing yell that made the hair on Hermione's neck stand up and tears spring to her eyes.

"I will not join the Order, but I refuse to get the Mark," he spat, standing again. Hermione was amazed he could still talk. His mouth was bleeding profusely.

"Maybe your mother can convince you then."

Draco's eyes widened. "Don't you touch her." Lucius raised his wand again, and Hermione flinched, waiting Draco's scream.

"That's why you are the way you are, huh?" Draco said. Hermione blinked and looked away from his grey eyes. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Ron and Harry looked perplexed.

She gathered her books, picked up her bag, and positively fled from the classroom, feeling Draco's anger fade the farther she got. She sank pathetically down to the floor next to a suit of armor. She realized with a start that if she had seen something in his mind, he surely could have seen something in hers…

Oh dear.

Malfoy stood complacently in a small but cozy house, and looked around, casting about for his bearings. He had no idea where he was. He jumped when he heard loud voices.

"Herm, honey," a plump man said, seating himself next to his daughter, "I don't understand why you don't want to go to school. It's a wonderful secondary school. Mrs. Perrine's son goes there. You always fancied him, didn't you?"

"But daaaaad," the smaller Hermione said, stomping her foot, "I can go to Hogwarts. The letter said! And Jacob's a prat. I never fancied him!"

Hermione's father ran his hand though his thick hair warily. "I'm not sure you're smart enough, Herm. You don't listen in class, you never do your homework, and you're lucky to have passed!"

Draco was shocked. Granger, not doing homework? Not listening? He was amazed. Granger was always the picture-perfect student. What the hell happened?

Hermione stomped her foot again. Draco chuckled. "I'll show you! I am smart enough! I'll be the smartest one there!" As she turned to make her dramatic exit, her father grabbed her arm.

"Listen here, young lady," he said sternly. Hermione's chocolate eyes clouded over with tears as he squeezed her arm. "I will not be spoken to like that. You will not be going, and that's that." He pushed Hermione away from him roughly, but Hermione stuck her chin out and stomped away and waited until she was in her room to cry.

She sat dejectedly in her room, making random objects float and sink back down. She stared at her little cat sleeping peacefully on her bed. "I will go to Hogwarts, Sasha, we'll show them. And you can come with me!" A silent tear fell down her cheek.

Malfoy sat at his desk, wondering how she had managed to get to Hogwarts after all. He had never pictured her having a tough childhood. She always seemed so rainbows and sunshine.

Maybe he knew nothing about Hermione Granger after all.

She collapsed in her Head's dormitory, connected by a door and a small hallway to Malfoy's dormitory. Their common room was continuously empty, considering they mostly preferred the company of their own House to each other. But this time, Hermione was sitting in the loveseat, staring at the wall when Draco strutted in.

"Why are you here, Granger?" he spat, baiting her.

"I live here, you imbecile," she retorted. "Sit."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Since when do I take orders from you?" he asked.

"Since you decided not to kill me for the sake of Voldemort," she said calmly.

If there was an answer he was expecting, it wasn't that. Malfoy jaw went slack and his face went, if possible, even paler. "How did you know that?" he asked.

"If your father tortures you again, tell me," Hermione said, ignoring him. "I'd be willing to take the torture for you."

He was taken aback. "Why on earth...?"

"Because you saved my life," she said simply. "In an indirect way, and for your own selfish reasons, but I'm still breathing, so," she took a deep breath. "I am in your debt."

Malfoy just stood there. Hermione took that as her cue to leave. She gathered her books and when she was about to walk through the portrait, Draco called her back. "What Malfoy?" she asked.

"You definitely proved your dad wrong Granger," he said softly. "That's all I had to say."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be shocked.

"But don't start thinking I'm going to be nice to you or whatever," Malfoy said coolly. "You're still a bushy haired Mudblood, whether you're wearing a Malfoy heirloom or not."

Any nice feelings Hermione had for Malfoy were gone in that second. Egotistical prat.

"Whatever Malfoy," she said, and sidled out of the portrait hole, a ghost of a smile gracing her face.

A/N: And???? Did you like it? Review and tell me! Pressy the button….y?


	4. Fight

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Wow, you guys are awesome! *bows* I'd like to thank the Academy… Just kidding. But seriously. I'm going to try to make this the longest chapter so far…cross your fingers.

And Beautiful-Dreamer434-Don't worry, we'll get there.

Disclaimer: Tom Felton is only mine in the confines of my mind. I found a loophole! Neh-neh-nehnehneh!

Chapter 4: Fight.

Hermione entered the Great Hall for dinner as inconspicuously as she could, keeping her head down and her wrist hidden. All she needed now was for someone to recognize the bracelet, like Draco had done. At least the Gryffindor table was as far away from the Slytherins as possible. She plopped down in her normal seat between Harry and Ron and reached for any food she could touch. Harry kept his eyes on his food and Ron got up and sat at the end of the table. Hermione looked up, mid-chew, and frowned at Harry.

"What's wrong with Ron?" she asked. Harry raised an eyebrow, as if she should already know the answer, but decided to grace her with an answer anyway.

"You stared at Malfoy for about 5 minutes, and he stared at you, and you both ran out," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "He just got the wrong impression like he usually does. He's just protective of you 'Mione," he smiled reassuringly.

"Wait…he got the wrong impression but you didn't?" Hermione asked incredulously. The boys hated Malfoy, for God's sake. It was almost a miracle that they both didn't jump him when he came into the Hall. Which, Hermione noted with a quick glance, he had yet to do. Harry laughed humorlessly.

"I'm not your boyfriend," he said simply.

Hermione had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She was about to retort about Ron's temper when she felt a feeling of worry creeping unto her. The small smile she was wearing on her face slid off like water when Draco entered the Great Hall, swaggering like he usually did. But it was all a façade. When she looked closer, she could feel his confusion and worry radiating off him like heat. He was perplexed about what she had said to him before, she could sense it. She shook the bracelet a little, and he turned and caught her eye with a quick snap of his neck.

_Do you want to talk about it? _she asked_. _

He narrowed his eyes. _Not really. Why do you care?_

_Because I can't even eat with the feelings you're having! It's terrible! I'm just trying to help you!_

_Well, thanks Granger, but I don't need your help. _And he sat at his table and broke eye contact, cutting off all communication. But Hermione could still feel the worry that was gnawing at him. She shifted uncomfortably.

"'Mione," Harry said. "Are you ok?"

Hermione shook her head a little to clear it. She was hoping she could focus on something else and the feeling would just go away, but it wouldn't. She tried to lock eyes with Malfoy again, but he seemed to be studiously avoiding her gaze. The more she tried to catch his attention, the more he stared at his empty plate. At one point, he started talking to his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, in an effort to keep her from getting his attention. But when she leaned over to kiss him, Hermione sent a feeling of disgust toward him that was so strong he had to pull away and gag.

She snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion.

She spent a few more minutes trying to unsuccessfully get his attention. Finally, she got fed up and slammed the wrist with the bracelet down on the corner of the table. Malfoy winced incredibly, and locked eyes with her once more.

_WHAT?!_

_Please, just talk to me. You need to talk about it, and I can't even have a normal conversation without feeling like someone knows all my secrets. _

_Well, you seem to know mine, don't you?_

_I just want to help. _

_I don't want your help, Mudblood! Leave me alone! _

_Well, in case you hadn't noticed, I CAN'T!_

_You're just going to have to try harder, aren't you then?_

_You aren't even eating! Just come back to the common room. I'll tell you what I saw. _

_Fine. _He bade everyone farewell, and ignored everyone's confused faces and walked toward Gryffindor's table.

"Hermione," Harry asked cautiously. "Why is Malfoy coming over here?"

Hermione fixed her gaze on her plate. She had gone too far, and she knew it. "I dunno, Harry," she said guiltily.

Malfoy stopped in front of her and stared. She refused to look him in the eye, and therefore felt nothing but the waves of anger he was giving off. She stood and walked away, ignoring Harry's calls.

"Hermione, wait!"

Great, just what she needed. Draco chuckled at the feeling of dread he felt from her as Ron chased her down.

"Hermione, what's going on with you?" he asked, sounding worried.

Hermione ran her hand through her hair exasperated. Draco had to stifle a laugh again. She flicked him off behind her back. "Nothing's wrong with me, Ronald," she said calmly.

Ron's face fell a little, but he wasn't about to let it go. "Then why are you leaving dinner early with…." He looked at Draco with distaste. "That?"

"We have to work on something, ok?" Hermione said, in a weak effort to placate him without giving too much away. He wasn't buying it.

"Like what?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Hermione cast about for an answer. She caught eyes with Draco.

_Help me!_

_Why on earth….?_

_Never mind. _

"We're supposed to plan a ball," she lied. "Kind of like the Yule Ball. But we still have to get it approved by Dumbledore. So…." She faltered, and almost lost her lie. "that's what we're working on."

Ron nodded, although they could both tell he didn't believe them. He grabbed Hermione's arm much like her father had and Draco felt her wince mentally. But he wasn't being abusive, he was being protective.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "Don't let him mess with you, ok?"

He kissed her quickly, and Malfoy mimed gagging, which made Hermione slightly nauseous. When he had made it back to the Great Hall, Hermione ran ahead of Malfoy, trying to hide her flaming cheeks.

"Why don't you just tell Weasel that you're wearing a Malfoy heirloom, can never take it off, and are therefore going to be burdened with my thoughts forever more?" he asked sarcastically.

Hermione shook her head. "Because Ron would hex you into kingdom come, and I wouldn't be able to stop him. He's already a jealous person…" she trailed off, hoping Malfoy wouldn't catch the allusion to his dashing good looks.

But alas…"So Weasel is threatened by me?" Draco asked, feigning nonchalance. "How appropriate." He glanced at Hermione. "He needn't worry his little Weasel head, I won't steal you from him. I have Pansy."

Now it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "You're seriously happy with her?" she asked incredulously.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Draco asked, offended.

"Oh, I dunno, because she looks like a pug, acts like a snake, and taking into account the feelings you were giving off when she kissed you, kisses like a snapping turtle?"

Malfoy bristled. "You were too busy making me hurl to actually notice anything I was feeling," he snapped. Hermione grinned inwardly. She knew she had hit a nerve, but decided to leave it for later.

"I know what you were feeling, Malfoy," she said patiently. "That's why I wanted you to leave so we could talk about it."

Malfoy looked affronted. "I don't need to talk about my problems. I'm not a girl," he said, and Hermione could swear his already chest-rumbling voice dropped even lower to demonstrate how manly he was.

Hermione almost swooned, then caught herself. This was Draco Malfoy. MALFOY! So what if his voice was devastatingly sexy? He was still a son of a Death Eater.

But, her thoughts started gnawing at her, he decided not to take the Mark.

Who cares?

I do! He would have killed me otherwise!

Hermione resisted the urge to slap herself and focused again on Draco. "I saw your father hurt you, Malfoy," she said softly.

"Which time, Granger?" he asked, then stopped.

Hermione was shocked. "So he does that all the time?"

Malfoy refused to meet her eyes. He had slipped up, and she caught it.

"Come on Malfoy, tell me."

"Yes Granger," was his reply.

Hermione was outraged. "Why don't you leave? Go somewhere? Fight back!" she started waving her arms around wildly.

"Granger, where would you propose I go?" Draco shouted. "All of my family are Death Eaters! If I run to them, I get killed. If I run to your precious Order, I get killed AGAIN! Either way, I'm dying."

"Why can't you fight back?" Hermione asked, letting Draco's frustration mingle with hers and raised her voice.

"I can't fight my own father! He'll kill my mother!" Draco yelled back. "I love my mother, Granger. She never did anything to hurt anyone, unless she had to in order to stay alive." Draco threw himself into a chair, breathing heavily. Hermione felt him squelch the frustration in order to control himself.

She felt her own anger wane. "I'm sorry I shouted at you, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly. "It's just…" she paused. "No one should have to have a bad childhood."

Malfoy looked at her curiously. "You would know all about that wouldn't you, huh Granger?"

Hermione glanced up, startled.

"That's right," Malfoy said, almost mockingly. "I know about your father."

A/N: Reviews rock! I'm just saying! You would rock too if you clicked that awesomely clickable button.

DOOOOO ITTTT!


	5. So They Did

A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks once again for all the reviews. Unarosaesunarosa, you are my absolute FAVORITE reviewer! Sticking with me since Chapter one! Gotta hand it to you, thanks. Anyway, a lot of you seemed mighty satisfied with the chapter you got, but after I reread it (after I posted it, obviously) I was certainly not satisfied. The writing was decent, I'll give me that, but the explanations just aren't that good. So, this is going to be kind of a catch up chapter, so be prepared to learn quite a bit more from our lovely Gryffindor Golden Girl and Sexy Slytherin Prince. *think this is a long enough A/N?*

Disclaimer: I JUST WANT TOM FELTON!

Chapter Five: So They Did.

Hermione stiffened, and even Draco felt the distinct discomfort that racked her thin frame at that moment. She turned her back to him and ran her hands through her unruly hair, mulling over what Malfoy had just said without the chance of him hearing her. Finally, she turned back around to face him. He was leaning back into the arm of the couch, looking remarkably composed despite the bomb he'd just dropped.

"What do you mean, you know about my father?" she asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

Malfoy shrugged. "Nothing, Granger," he said elusively. "Really, you don't have to tell me your life story," he paused. "I don't want to hear a ruddy Mudblood's history, anyway," he said in a valiant attempt to recapture his past sarcasm. But Hermione ignored him.

"Tell me what you saw, Malfoy," she said quietly, taking a seat next to him on the couch. He watched her fold her legs under her and lean back into her respective section of the couch. "Really. I need to know."

Malfoy shrugged again, not willing to tell her what he saw. It had seemed so intimate, when she was talking about his father, that it made his stomach clench painfully in a way he couldn't quite place. He wasn't sure how he felt about that feeling, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to feel it again. He guessed his hesitation flowed through the jewelry, because she seized his wrist in an effort to get him to focus.

Immediately, an electric shock, much like a static shock from rubbing your socks on a rug shocked the two, and they jumped apart. Hermione gazed, horrified, at her palm. There was a tiny burn mark on her palm that vaguely resembled…no, it couldn't be. Could it?

Malfoy felt her fear before he noticed it. He looked over to the brunette and saw her gazing, transfixed, at the palm of her hand. Really, it hadn't hurt that bad…Malfoy leaned over to get a better look, and almost gasped, but stopped himself. Only girls gasped.

There was a snake burned onto her skin. Malfoy immediately turned over his wrist, too afraid to look. Hermione let out a small whimper. "Look at your arm, Malfoy."

Malfoy stared at her as if she were mad, and moved to jump away. She reached out a hand to stop him, but he moved even farther away so he wouldn't feel like he stuck his tongue in those Muggle socket things. She, too, flinched back and away.

"Just look at it, Malfoy," she said quietly. Malfoy turned over his arm and looked at the underside of his wrist. There was a small lion burned into his hand. Not very detailed, or clear, but there nonetheless.

"Shit," was all he could wrangle out of his now blocked throat. This had never happened before with any of the other wearers of the bracelets. But then again, no self-respecting Slytherin, or Malfoy for that matter, would have willingly given the bracelet to a Gryffindor.

"Tell me what you saw, Malfoy," Hermione said, unrelenting. He raised his blonde head and looked at her. She had stuck her burned hand under her thigh so she couldn't see it, and he somehow found that hilarious. He stifled a laugh and tried to get serious by looking at her face. But his suppressed mirth was spilling over onto her consciousness, because a smile was about to break out across her visage.

She giggled a little, and he let out a deep, throaty chuckle, which made her tingle a little. He smirked. He could feel it.

"Please."

And he told her.

When he was finished, Hermione leaned back to her respective side of the couch. She had subconsciously moved closer to the Slytherin while the tale wore on, and had finally snapped back to reality.

"My father was always the mean one," she started slowly. She looked up at Draco, as though asking permission to continue. He nodded. "My mother was the passive-aggressive one. Nothing was ever good enough for her. If I got good grades at school, I wasn't doing enough around the house. If I did work around the house, I wasn't getting good enough grades. One time I tried to do both, and she would mutter curses under her breath whenever I walked by."

Draco didn't move. He just stared. So she continued. "My father was the meaner one. Where my mother yelled, he would slap. If my grades weren't good enough, I got a whipping. If my mother asked him to, I would get a whipping."

"The week before my first year, my mother decided she'd had enough of me once and for all. She told me she wanted me to go to Hogwarts, and she didn't want me to come back," Hermione lowered her head so Draco couldn't see her chocolate eyes sparkle with tears. "My father had forbade it, of course, but she knew just how to fix him." Hermione imitated her mother. "Please honey," she mocked cruelly, "I can't stand her in this house much longer. I think she might try to hurt us with all of her magic."

"My father just laughed at her and told her to shut the fuck up." Draco was shocked. Hermione had never used language like that. "He told her I wasn't going anywhere, and nothing she said was going to change that."

"And that night, he touched me."

At this, Draco stood up, unable to hear anymore. Hermione lifted her doe eyes at him and he unwillingly softened. She needed to get this off her chest, and if he had to endure it, it was alright with him.

"What happened, Hermione?" he asked.

She looked up at him, choosing to focus instead on a spot a little above his eyes to spare him the visual image. "When he tried to…you know, I got really scared, and I guess my magic kicked in. He started choking. He was clutching at his throat and gasping for air and his face started turning purple." She shook with a silent sob. "So I stopped it. I don't know how, but I stopped it. And he just stared at me like I was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen and told me he wanted me out of the house. Forever."

"Merlin, Granger," Draco breathed. "Your father was a twisted one, wasn't he?"

"Still is, Malfoy."

"So have you ever…?" Draco trailed off, looking at Hermione significantly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm still a virgin, Draco," she answered quietly.

"You called me Draco," he stated, bewildered.

"You called me Hermione," she replied.

"Well, since we're reliving our sordid past, it seems only appropriate, no?" a small smirk played at the corner of his lusted-after lips, and Hermione managed a weak smile.

"Your turn."

She looked taken aback. "My turn for what?"

"Tell me what you saw."

And Hermione Granger returned the favor. She gave Draco Malfoy the truth.

"My father was quite similar to your father, Granger," Malfoy mused, twisting his hands in his lap. "If I disobeyed, it was the Cruciatus curse for me. If I didn't give in, my mother got it. And I got the pleasure of watching."

Hermione looked horrified.

"One time, he tried to put me under the Imperius curse, and tortured me twice as much because I could throw it off. You would think a Death Eater would be thrilled at the skill his son was showing, but no. It was always pain with him."

"When I was ten, he took me to my first meeting. That's where all the Death Eaters go and meet up with V-Voldemort and if they're lucky, they snatch a Muggle and torture him or her just for kicks." Malfoy looked like he wanted to throw up. "They made me watch, and when they were done, they would make me drag the body out back, even though they could have easily done it with magic. They wanted me to get used to the feeling of death."

"Sometimes I feel like death had permeated my skin and I'll always feel that way. Dead, I mean. Most of the time, I'm either angry or sad. I'm never happy, and when I am, it's because I'm making someone else miserable. Not physically, mind you, just teasing. And it's not even fun anymore."

"I took up Muggle boxing, Granger, last year, that way I could fight without needing my wand, just in case something happened. I've read almost every Defense book there is, and I've mastered most defensive spells. I'm ready for death, Granger. I've been ready since I was ten years old and I watched that first Muggle die."

Malfoy actually let a tear fall down his stone cheek and without thinking, Hermione reached up and brushed it away. This time, the electricity was a mere tingle.

"Her name was Anna Burke. She was seventeen, and one of the most beautiful women I have every seen, still to this day. She was walking down the road, on her way home to her flat. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Bellatrix took her. It only took a second to take her, and it took three hours and fifty two minutes exactly to kill her."

Hermione let a few tears fall down her cheeks too. Malfoy stared at the couch, afraid of all the emotions he could feel coming off of Hermione. There was pity, sadness, and…understanding. Empathy. She knew how it felt to have a secret that no one was allowed to hear. But now that secret was out in the open, and that gave them both relief.

"I'm going to bed," Malfoy said, making to stand up. Hermione stuck out a hand and stopped him.

"What, Granger?" Malfoy asked, sounding like a ghost of himself.

"Stay with me," was her whispered reply.

So he did.

A/N: So, who has the worst childhood? I can't even pick! Review! Oh, and I know most of the time, Hermione has the perfect home life, but this was the only way I could think to connect them emotionally. You know? Anyway, review!


	6. Pain

A/N: Thanks once more for all the reviews you guys! I would have had this update up like last night, but I was a little busy…I have a choir competition in about a week and I know absolutely NONE of my music. Therefore, I was a tad busy. Sorry! But ok, on with it. So I'm pretty much satisfied with the way they explained themselves. Now it's time to put in the drama.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. And my X-Rated fantasies of Tom Felton. Haha. Just Joking.

Chapter Six: Pain

Hermione Granger was pleased. Yes, for the first time in her seven years in Hogwarts, she came into the Great Hall with her aristocratic little chin held high in the air and a beaming smile on her face. After spilling her guts to Malfoy, Draco, she felt like an anvil had been lifted off her chest. And even better, the bracelet was reporting only content feelings from Malfoy's end.

She took a seat in between Harry and Ron and filled her plate high with eggs and bacon. Harry smiled cautiously at her and even Ron looked a little shocked that she was shoveling breakfast into her mouth that fast. Truth be told, having no more dark secrets meant she had a lot more room to stuff food. She smiled as best she could with a mouth full of eggs and crossed her eyes, making Harry and Ron laugh. Ron tossed his arm lightly around her shoulders and Harry smiled at his two best friends.

Malfoy entered the Great Hall exactly two minutes after Hermione, as they had decided. He chanced a glance her way and saw her laughing animatedly with Potty and the Weasel. He rolled his eyes good naturedly and continued to the Slytherin table, sliding down between Theo and Blaise, who was waving at Loony Lovegood.

He elbowed Blaise. "Dude, that's just so messed up," he said. Blaise made a face at him and Draco smirked, the first genuine smirk he could muster in quite a while.

Blaise's face went stony and he motioned for Draco to lean in. He obliged. "What's messed up is I hear you and Granger are messing around."

Malfoy's pale face flushed pink. How dare they think that? He was a pureblood, for Merlin's sake! His mind flashed back to the night before, when she had been snuggled up close against his firm chest, her hand resting right next to his heartbeat, breathing softly.

He had to admit, finding out Granger wasn't as perfect as she'd like to be made her seem different to Malfoy. More human. She was just another girl now, caught up in making her family happy and living up to impossible expectations. She may be a Mudblood, but Malfoy knew exactly how she felt.

He looked up and caught her eye momentarily. She only kept the eye contact long enough to send a message shooting his way.

_Thanks for last night_

"I am so NOT messing around with Granger," Malfoy said, sneering. "That's not messed up, that's plain gross."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Not going to lie to you, man, but I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"Did what?" Malfoy narrowed his eyes. Blaise grinned.

"If you hit that."

Malfoy fake retched, making Blaise laugh. He chanced a look at Granger one more time. She was leaning against Ron's side and kissed his cheek affectionately. This time Malfoy did really gag. The fact that two people could be so disgustingly happy made him sick.

Hermione pulled away from Ron, almost gagging. She turned and locked eyes with Malfoy, and they both chose not to pass any specific thoughts to each other. Malfoy just narrowed his eyes, but instead of being malevolent, it just looked like a gesture of endearment. She smirked, a shadow of a Malfoy move.

Malfoy broke eye contact when an official looking owl dropped a letter on his lap. He opened it cautiously, ignoring the curious looks he was getting from his peers. His grey eyes slid over the paper fluidly, just like Hermione's when she read, and she actually smiled. At Malfoy.

The gesture disturbed her.

Hermione watched Malfoy inconspicuously as his already pale face turned positively sheet white. He set the letter down and a tidal wave of grief hit Hermione so hard tears came to her eyes. When one finally fell down her porcelain cheek, Ron noticed.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder. Hermione chanced a glance up, and saw Draco still sitting, like stone, where he had been when he set the letter down.

She shook her head, letting more tears loose as she did so. Now almost every Gryffindor was staring at her, but the sadness and grief she felt were so overwhelming she had to leave. She got up and, without thinking, walked up to the Slytherin table and laid her hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

He glanced up, and Hermione saw for the first time, tears in Draco Malfoy's eyes. The sight only made her sob harder, and he got up and pulled her, not too gently, out of the Great Hall. She followed compliantly, and he stopped her right outside in the hall.

"You have to stop," he said, trying to be severe. She fixed him with a glare that was clouded over with what he recognized as his own wretched feelings.

"I can't stop," she hiccupped. "I can't hide my emotions like you can." She grabbed his arm and dragged him up the staircases, more tears running down her face. She kept herself a few steps ahead of him so he couldn't see.

Draco followed her as if in a trance, the letter from his father clutched tightly in his shaking fist. He almost tripped up the stairs several times, but Hermione's small arm steadied him.

When they entered the Head's dormitories, he looked around, surprised. "Why are we here?" he asked, bewildered. "We have class in ten minutes."

Hermione, oddly enough, didn't look fazed at all that she was going to be late for class. She sat on the couch and stared at him, waiting for him to explain. But Draco didn't feel like talking. He stood, staring right at her the same way she was staring at him. When she didn't move, he narrowed his eyes at her, frustrated.

"I don't want to talk about it, Granger!" he said firmly.

"I don't care!" she almost shrieked. "You're in pain, therefore I'm in pain. I don't like being in pain. I have other things to take care of!"

Draco recoiled. "I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience, Granger," he said, sounding hurt. Hermione stared at him, abashed. She finally moved from her spot on the couch and pushed him lightly into the couch, sitting next to him.

"Look," she began. "I know you don't want to be stuck in this predicament any more than I do. But if it wasn't for the bracelet and the ring, you would have walked around with this on your shoulders until you snapped. But, unfortunately for you, I can feel your pain. Literally," she added with a shudder. "So you need to tell me."

Draco glared at her, unconvinced.

"It's healthy?" she said, tilting her head to the side, trying to sway him.

He raised an eyebrow, half-amused. He finally relaxed his fist, and the letter fell to the ground. He spied the Malfoy crest on the front of the letter and raised his blonde head back to look at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears in.

"You know you can cry, right?" Hermione said, cautiously, hoping he wouldn't get angry with her for suggesting such an un-masculine thing to do.

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Hermione, with a boldness she didn't recognize, reached over and pulled Draco close to her, laying his head on her chest, running her fingers through his soft hair soothingly.

She settled back into the sofa and closed her eyes, holding Draco to her. The feeling was so reminiscent of his mother that Draco started crying. He clung to Hermione for dear life and cried. His broad shoulders shook and she soothed him, telling him everything was going to be ok, she promised. He pulled away from her for a moment and wiped his gray eyes. Hermione stared at his face, transfixed. The show of emotion made his normally stone face so much softer. He looked like a little boy that had lost his mother.

She finally locked eyes with him, surprised to see a small ring of brown around his perfectly stormy eyes. Now his eyes were clouding over again, and she pulled him back to her, this time laying his head in her lap and letting him stretch out on the couch.

"Can I read the letter?" she asked quietly. He looked up into her chocolate eyes, which were still brimming with unshed tears. He was touched that she was so upset over something she didn't even know about. Granted, it was the bracelet that made her so upset, but she was determined to help him, no matter what.

He reached to the floor, picked up the letter, and handed it to her. She unfolded and read:

_Dear Draco, _

_I have some slightly upsetting news for you. Remember when I told you that I wanted you to come to the Death Eater meetings, and you were going to learn to properly torture? Remember when you turned me down and I told you your mother would pay? _

_Well son, your mother died this morning in St. Mungo's. This never would have happened if you hadn't disobeyed me. _

_Lucius. _

A/N: AWWWW! Poor Draco! Sorry this chapter kind of sucks and took me forever to write. I had a disease…called WRITERS BLOCK! Anyway, anyone remember the mention of a ball in the previous chapter or two? Mhm? Well, it'll come back. So anyone with ideas about what should happen at the ball, review and tell me!

And even if you don't have ideas, just review and tell me how cool I am.


	7. The Letter M

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, once again! And I got about three ideas from the reviews. So thanks again, I really wouldn't be inspired with all of you guys. So, how was that last chapter? Angsty enough? I think so.

Disclaimer: While I love Tom Felton, if someone gave me David Cook, that would be awesome. My birthday's in June! Keep that in mind.

Chapter 7: The Letter M.

Hermione stared at the wall, still stroking Draco's hair. He had long since fallen asleep, his tears had been dried, and the sobs had quieted. She had never dreamed she would ever see him cry, and in a way, had hoped she wouldn't. She didn't want to ruin his stony reputation, for lack of a better term. Now, he just seemed like a lost boy, and she wasn't sure how to fix him. Though one could argue it wasn't really her duty to fix a heartbroken Death Eater's spawn, she couldn't imagine not doing it. She chalked up the feeling to a side effect of the bracelet.

She quietly moved from her spot on the couch, laying Draco's head on a couch cushion and quickly scribbled a note. She stuck it to Draco's chest, and walked out the portrait hole to the kitchens. She stared ahead, not really seeing what she was walking past; caught up in the indifferent and cold letter Lucius had sent his only son. The way his father could just tear up his son's life with no regard to the consequences made her fists clench and her jaw tighten in anger.

She had almost made it to the kitchen when a strong arm had reached out and yanked her into and empty classroom. Ron.

"Hey," she said, avoiding looking him in the eye. Instead, she fixed her gaze to a spot next to his nose.

"Where have you been, 'Mione?" he asked. He didn't sound concerned. He sounded angry. Hermione looked up and finally caught his gaze, and Ron stepped away from her. She imagined she looked terrible; her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair was tangled, and all her makeup had been cried off. But Ron squinted his eyes and stepped closer, looking into her eyes.

"What happened to your eyes?" he asked. Her hand immediately jumped to her eyes, and she frowned.

"What are you talking about, Ronald?" she asked.

"They're gray. They're normally brown." He took a step back. Hermione's eyes widened. She conjured a mirror and gazed into it. Ron was right. Her eyes were gray. The exact color of Draco's. Another side effect to the bracelet, perhaps? But, while she was staring, she had to admit, she looked a lot more striking with Draco's colored eyes.

"Draco," she said quietly, without thinking.

"I knew it!" Ron almost shouted. "Why did you two run out of the Great Hall this morning and skip all your classes? And now you're calling Malfoy Draco?" Hermione flinched. She brought her hand up to her hair to push it out of her face when he grabbed her wrist.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He was looking at the bracelet. The bracelet that, Hermione was terrified to see, had turned almost white instead of silver and had a cursive M engraved on underside, where the clasp should have been. Ron ran his fingers over the M, and Hermione tried to flinch away, but he held tight.

"WHAT IS IT?" he roared, and Hermione jumped back.

"It was a-a-gift," she stammered. She'd never seen Ron this angry before. "My uncle gave it to me, his last name is…Malone." That was true. She did have an uncle with the last name Malone, but she hadn't seen him since she was a little girl, and there was no way he could afford something like that.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione," Ron said, sounding calm, but Hermione could hear the anger. "Lies don't suit you."

Hermione caught her breath quickly. "I'm not lying to you, Ronald," she spat. She turned to leave, but Ron caught her. He tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away, the too familiar nauseous feeling enveloping her. She had gotten so used to the feeling every time Ron kissed her that now she felt it without Draco sending it her way.

"And to think I love you," Ron sneered, shaking his head. "But I'm not pure enough for you, am I, Granger?"

The use of her surname was like a slap to the face. She flinched. "I never take blood status into account for anything, Weasley," she replied.

"Well, don't waste your time, he won't have a Mudblood," Ron shouted.

All the breath Hermione had left her. Her boyfriend, the supposed love of her life, had just called her a Mudblood. She shook her head and walked out, trying to be calm. She muttered the password to the kitchens and walked inside, in a daze.

"Hello, Mistress Hermione," squeaked one of the houselves. "How may I help you tonight?" It was Winky.

"Hey, Winky," Hermione said weakly, taking a seat. "Can you just get me a few leftovers, I need to take them to a friend. He's sick."

Winky nodded and disappeared, and returned moments later with a small satchel filled with food. Hermione thanked them and walked away, slowly, like she was trudging to the gallows. When she muttered the password to the Head's Tower, she was surprised to feel more tears on her face. She touched them, as though she couldn't believe they were really there, and walked through the portrait hole. Malfoy was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He stopped when she entered the room.

"What's wrong now?" he asked, not rudely. She shook her head and set down the food.

"I thought you might be hungry," she said softly.

"And this depresses you?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little. She shook her head and put her head in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees, not unlike the way Draco had been before he told her about his mother.

Draco, instead of pulling Hermione to him, like she had done, reached out and pulled her hand to him. "What happened to you?" he asked.

He was looking at the wrist with the bracelet, which, Hermione was alarmed to see, already had a bruise where Ron had gripped her.

"Ron saw the bracelet," she said quietly.

"And bruised you for it?! Did you tell him it was an accident?"

"I told him it was from my uncle. He didn't believe me. He thinks I'm…" she paused. "He thinks I'm in love with you or something. He said…he said you were too pure for me. That you would never have a-a Mudblood," her soft voice cracked on the last word.

Draco's mouth fell open, and he quickly snapped it shut. "He called you…" he stopped, unwilling to use the word now. "That?"

Hermione felt the pity coming from him, but ignored it. It just flared her anger. "This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen!" Draco looked taken aback. "I was supposed to finish the top of my class, become a respected Ministry official, and marry Ron Weasley!"

Draco leaned into her side teasingly. "You wanted to marry him?"

"It seemed like the right way to go, you know what I mean?"

"But did you really WANT to?" he asked, pressing.

"I don't really know," she admitted. "That was the way it was supposed to go. I was supposed to marry Ron, Harry would marry Ginny, and we would all be happy. I wasn't supposed to get stuck like this!" she thrust her hand out. "I wasn't supposed to think you were a decent human being. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Draco pulled her onto his lap and held her to him like a child, rocking her back and forth. She struggled against him. He let her go, curious, and raised an eyebrow.

"No!" she shouted. "I can't get that close to you!" his eyebrows practically jumped to his hairline. "When I'm that close, I can't think about anyone but you! And I shouldn't. I should be thinking of Ron. I should think HE has beautiful eyes. I should think HE is handsome, I should think HE is smart, and charming, and intriguing. I'm not supposed to think of YOU that way!"

She pointed at him accusingly. He stood up, and she immediately backed away.

"Hermione," he said calmly. "Let me comfort you. You're hysterical."

She backed herself all the way to the wall.

"Hermione," his voice came at her in nothing but a whisper, and her whole body trembled.

He was standing right in front of her, a few feet away. She closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them, he would be gone, an apparition. But when she opened them, he was standing closer.

"Draco," she pleaded, her voice barely audible.

He reached out his hand and touched her face lightly. She leaned into it, without realizing what she was doing. He smirked, the first facial expression she had seen that reminded her so completely of the Malfoy she had known for so long.

And then he kissed her.

A/N: FAVORITE CHAPTER, BY FAR! Lol.


	8. White Lie

A/N: Thanks for the reviews you guys!! Seriously, y'all are amazing. I think this fic is the most reviewed I've ever written. It's definitely my favorite. Anyway, I'm glad a lot of people didn't attack me for the pretty crappy ending. But let's fix it. OH! And by the way, yeah, I'm not a big fan of Ron either. Can you tell?

Disclaimer: Do I look like JKR to you? I most definitely am not. Plot is mine. That's about it.

Chapter 8: White Lie

If a normal kiss with Draco Malfoy was good, then the bracelet and the ring never had a better purpose. The feeling of his lips on her's was magnified tenfold. The entire kiss was a contrast. It was soft and rough at the same time. She was surprised and somehow had seen it coming. She had her hands on his chest, both to push him away but to steady herself so she could keep the kiss going. She forgot everything around her; it was all nothing. All she could feel was the pressure of his lips on hers, and she was surprised to find that she liked it.

She finally pulled away, panting and gasping for air. She could feel his chest heaving like hers under her hands. He stepped away, and she bolted out from the wall, and made a beeline for her room.

Without saying a word, she flung herself on her bed and stared at the ceiling, too conflicted to do anything else. She should be crying; the love of her life had just almost beaten her and basically broken up with her and called her the most hateful name for a Muggleborn. But then again, she could be dancing, if she was like any other teenage girl at Hogwarts. She had just been kissed by Draco Malfoy! It was a monumental occurrence, at least for 'Mudbloods' like her. And she had heard more than one girl fawning over his superior kissing skills in the loo.

And yet, here she lay, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, not knowing how to feel.

She must have drifted off for a moment, because she awoke with a start to Draco pounding on her door. "Oi, Granger! Professor McGonagall wants to talk to us!"

She jumped up, straightened her skirt, and walked out, right into Draco's strong chest. The one she had just been pressed up against…She pushed the thought from her mind, but it hadn't gone unnoticed. She could practically feel the smirk on Malfoy's face as she descended the stairs before him. Scratch that. She could literally FEEL the smugness coming off him.

Professor McGonagall stood imploringly in the common room, refusing to sit on any couch or chair as if it were diseased, so Hermione and Draco opted to stand.

"I'm sure you remember the Yule Ball in the fourth year, correct?" she started off, wasting no time.

Hermione wanted to smack herself. What if Ron had actually asked McGonagall about a ball? "Yes, Professor," she answered.

"Well, it has come to my attention that most of the student population would like another of the same sort," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes leaving the Head Boy's and Girl's for a moment to sweep the room. "Therefore, I would like help from the two of you, being Head Boy and Girl."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but McGonagall cut him off. "There's no point in fighting it, Mr. Malfoy," she snapped. "You will help Miss Granger plan this ball. It is scheduled for Halloween night. You two will open the ball."

Now Hermione had to object. Not because she knew Ron would get angry, or because she just wasn't a really good dancer, but because she really didn't think she could trust herself and her actions if she got that close to Malfoy again.

But the protests were futile. "You will plan the ball. You will open it. Good day."

Malfoy threw himself on the couch as soon as the portrait hole closed. "Looks like your little white lie just became a huge problem, Granger," he said. So he was back to Granger then, was he?

"I didn't actually want to have a ball, Malfoy," she hissed back. "Nor did I want to dance with you."

Malfoy sat up quickly. "You know, Granger," he said. "You could turn this dance to your advantage. That is, if you're really the smartest witch of the age."

Hermione thought for a second, then looked straight into Malfoy's stormy eyes. "I could use this dance to make Ron jealous?" she said, as a question. "I really don't care what he thinks anymore."

But Draco didn't care about that. "Hey! You were supposed to guess that on your own! No mind reading allowed!"

Hermione smirked. "Stop being such a baby. Now give me dance lessons."

Draco looked taken aback. "I thought-?"

"I know you did. Now I just want to make Ron angry, not jealous," Malfoy seized her around the waist and pulled her close, holding her right hand in his left in a formal dancing position. "And that's why I'm the smartest witch of the age."

A/N: Sorry this is a short chapter. It's late, and I'm tired. And this seemed like a great place to stop. And quick question: If Hermione is the smartest witch of her age, how come she doesn't know she's in love with Draco yet? 


	9. Shut Up

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews! You guys rock! And for the record, those of you that have ideas for me, I am totally not offended when you share! It makes me feel like I'm doing a good job and you're actually paying attention to what you're reading. So, I'm going to try to break my previous record of the longest chapter by making this an amazing chapter. You're welcome.

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Obviously.

Chapter 9: Shut Up

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger chose not to go to breakfast the next morning. Not because they weren't hungry, but because Professor McGonagall had decided there would be a Halloween Ball, and it was two weeks until Halloween, and no preparations had been made. So that night, Hermione and Draco had stayed up almost all night making fliers for the ball and hanging them around the school. It shouldn't have taken so long, but Filch kept popping up and asking questions so much that Draco threatened to turn Mrs. Norris into a Fanged Frisbee and Filch had finally, reluctantly, relented.

Hermione yawned hugely from her side of the coffee table, where her and Draco were kneeling. He yawned right after her, an obvious effect of the bracelet. He had seen the bracelet gleam in the dim lighting a little more than usual, but had ignored it. Now he looked, and stared. The bracelet was sparkling. The traditional silver had changed to platinum. And when Hermione would flick her wrist, he could see, however faintly, the serpent on her hand, and the M engraved on the bracelet.

Slowly, fearfully, Draco glanced down. His ring started changing, while he watched. He refused the instinctive feeling to whip the ring off, even though he knew he couldn't, and watched it shine on his hand. It was platinum.

"Malfoy? Malfoy? Malfoy!" Hermione snapped in his face, and he glanced up.

"Yes, Granger?" he asked. She sighed, exasperated, and returned to the sheet.

"What kind of food do we want at this thing?" she said thoughtfully, as though mulling it over out loud.

"Tell you what, Granger," Malfoy said, sitting up suddenly. "How about you go down to the kitchens and get us some sustenance, and by the time you get back, I'll have everything we need written on that little sheet of yours. Deal?"

Hermione looked skeptical. "How do I know you won't do something stupid, or make me get you food and really write nothing down?"

Malfoy stood up, and Hermione followed suit. "I, Draco Scorpius Malfoy, swear not to deceive you, Miss Hermione Jean Granger," he said in a deep vibrato. Hermione's insides clenched appreciatively at the low tone.

"How do you know my middle name?" she asked. "And Scorpius? That's oddly medieval, huh? She smirked, and Malfoy felt a little flutter of…self-satisfaction. She even smirked like him now. Even her remarks were a little more scathing than usual.

"My parents are weird, that's all," he said dismissively, dodging the other question. "Seriously, though. I'm hungry, and I can finish this all in no time," he raised his eyebrows. "I'm a whiz at stuff like this."

Hermione moved towards the portrait hole. "Who knew you could be a nerd like me?" she said musingly.

"I'm still cooler than you!" Malfoy yelled back at her as she was leaving.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Scorpius," she replied. He couldn't help but smile a little at her sarcasm. He could feel her amusement as she walked away, slowly taking the feeling of her presence with her. When she was gone, Draco felt oddly…empty. Like there was something missing. He took this opportunity to gaze again at the burn mark on his wrist, the lion. At first, he just chalked it up to that useless Muggle thing called science, but now he could see it was definitely a lion.

Oh, wait, wasn't he supposed to be doing something? Right. He scooped up Hermione's piece of parchment and quill and started scribbling. It was going to be a Halloween Ball, but a different one. It was definitely going to be different.

Dates were required. You absolutely had to bring a date, or the dance would be rendered useless. He wrote that and underlined it a few times for good measure. He really had to thank Hermione for this later. She had definitely inspired him.

Instead of normal pumpkin juice and cookies, it would be mugs of 'ale' but really this pop stuff he had accidentally tried. It was some Muggle substance, and it tickled his throat. 'Sprite', he thought it might be? Maybe it was 'Fairy'. He wasn't so sure. The food would be just like a normal dance, but dinner would be served before.

Draco scribbled the words 'steak, potatoes, bread' on the parchment and smiled to himself. This was going to be amazing. Hermione had written 'Ball Plans" in her neat writing near the top of the paper. Draco scratched it out and wrote "Medieval Madness" in his elegant backwards slanting cursive. Underneath he wrote 'Costumes should be from the Medieval times, like Romeo and Juliet brought to life'.

He sat back, satisfied, when Hermione came bustling through the door, looking harried. She set down a small platter full of waffles, syrup, fruit, and coffee, and took her vacant seat.

"I met Professor McGonagall in the hall. She said we're excused from classes today to finish planning the Ball so we can turn in all the plans tonight at dinner."

"Well, it looks like we're going to have the whole day to ourselves then," Malfoy said, leaning back, interlocking his fingers behind his head and grinning.

Hermione made a face that reminded Draco so much of his sneer that he dropped his hands. "And if I don't approve?"

"Then I'm going to sleep and you can make up the plans by yourself," Draco shot back jokingly.

Hermione whipped the paper out of his hands and started reading, narrowing her eyes more and more as she went. When she finished, she set the paper down delicately and stood.

"You crossed out my title!" she protested. Draco, who had been waiting for the tirade about his terrible idea, started laughing. She smiled down at him, and he jumped a little. Her normally chocolate eyes were ringed with gray. Just like his. He blinked a few times and looked again. Now they were their normal soft, warm color.

"Well, Missy, I would appreciate it if you focused on the actual event at hand. Did you like the idea, or not?" Hermione threw her head back and laughed, and her mirth spilled over onto Draco, causing him to chuckle softly.

"Well," she stopped for a breath. "I think your ideas are quite fantastic actually."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "What was that, Granger?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and stepped closer. "I said. Your. Ideas. Are. DECENT!" she said loudly.

Malfoy laughed. "I'm sorry. I had to make you repeat it. I don't think you've ever complimented something about me ever."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and the mischievous feeling she was radiating made Malfoy feel slightly nervous. Then she raised her hand to her forehead like the drama queens do, and spoke in a high pitched voice. "Oh, Draco," she simpered. "You're so handsome, and witty, and smart, and talented. You're hair is so perfect, your eyes are so intense, your kisses are so breathtaking. Oh Draco, you're perfection in a man's form." She dropped her hand and smiled.

"How's that?" she asked. Instead of a sarcastic remark, all she got was a low growl in response and he pulled her to him and kissed her mouth hungrily. She pulled away for a second, and saw nothing but seriousness in his deep gray eyes. When he growled at her again, low, deep in his chest, she finally responded in kind.

He had basically pulled her to him over the coffee table, and now the piece of furniture was getting in the way. He apparently could read her mind, because he lifted her right over the coffee table and tossed her gently onto the couch before climbing on top of her and connecting their lips again. She wrapped her small arms around his neck and lowered her teeth onto his lower lip gently, and he let out a little moan.

He removed himself from her mouth and went to her neck and started sucking on the pulse point roughly. She tangled her fingers in his platinum hair, and wiggled her hips a little against his. He pulled away to look at her for a moment, as if unsure this was still Hermione. After a few seconds, he took a hold of her neck once more.

He had just returned to kissing her mouth when a knock came at the portrait hole. The two sprang apart and positioned themselves at opposite ends of the couch when the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered in a flourish of her robes.

"Well," she said expectantly. "Let's see how you've done."

Hermione cleared her throat loudly and handed the professor the piece of parchment. She ran her eyes over it and nodded in approval at a few points. She handed it back, a beaming smile on her face.

"Great job, Heads," she said. "We'll make the formal announcement at dinner and tell students to come and ask you two questions, so it would be beneficial for you two to attend dinner. And Mr. Malfoy," she said, turning to Draco. "Since you decided dates were required, I assume you and Miss Granger will be going with each other?" she looked from Hermione to Draco, as though daring them to protest.

Malfoy stammered. "I hadn't really thought about it like that, Professor," he said.

"Well, since you two are opening the ball," she replied matter-of-factly, "It seems only right that you two would attend the ball together."

Hermione blinked, then nodded. Draco, after a few seconds of thinking, nodded as well.

"Good," Professor McGonagall said, and gave the room one final, sweeping stare as she left. The second the door closed, Hermione and Draco slumped back on the couch.

"You have to stop kissing me, Draco," Hermione said sternly. Draco raised his eyebrows at her and smiled.

"Or what?" he asked. "Are you going to accidentally give up your virginity to me if I don't stop?" he teased lightly, lightly enough for Hermione to know he was joking. "I won't complain."

Hermione flushed a bright pink. "You're such a prat, Malfoy, " she replied.

"And yet you want to have wild, crazy, sweaty sex with me, Granger," he said, smirking. Hermione stood up and held out her hand. Draco stared at it, thinking she was actually about to start taking her clothes off.

"Teach me some more dance moves," she said. He laughed and stood, spinning her a few times for good measure.

"Time to learn how to dance sexy, Granger," he said, pulling her close. "Put those hips to good use," he instructed. Obediently, Hermione shook her hips against him. "Not like that, Merlin!"

She smiled, revealing a smile Draco could only say truthfully he had seen on his face. "Are you getting uncomfortable, Malfoy?" she asked, faux-sweetly.

"Just shut up and dance," he said roughly.

A/N: I think this is the longest chapter!! Whee! Review! And this was a little more playful than the other ones, but I figured they need to have a little fun too, you know?


	10. The Eyes

A/N: Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long! I had my choir competition on Saturday, and guess what…? I'M GOING TO STATE! Lol. I seriously didn't think I would, but I'm glad I am. Anywhoo, moving on. Thanks once more to all of the reviews, especially unarosaesunarosa. You guys are pretty much the best!

Disclaimer: Not mine! Promise!!!! But if Tom Felton decided to relinquish his personal rights and become my sex slave, I would definitely not object.

Chapter 10: The Eyes

The ball was going to be a huge success, Hermione could feel it. Mostly because she could feel Malfoy's satisfaction pouring through the ring and the bracelet. The plans had gone to Dumbledore, and he had taken care of ordering anything and everything they might need for the decorations. Draco and Hermione were just supposed to decorate and then show up…together.

That was the piece de resistance. Ron had begged and begged for Hermione to take him back, and was now in the process of proclaiming his undying love for her every chance he got, and Harry was just sitting back, amused. He had no problem in the date department. Every single girl in their house was fawning all over him, but he already had the girl he wanted: Ginny.

And she was ecstatic. Hermione didn't need her to put on some enchanted jewelry to know that. So Ginny was happy, Ron was desperate, Harry was amused, Draco was content, and Hermione? She really didn't know what to feel.

She was glad the ball was going to be a success. She was agitated that Ron couldn't take a hint. She was exasperated that Harry wouldn't stop him. She was amused that Draco was actually calm for more than an hour at a time. And yet, she was still stressed about homework.

"How can you even worry about that stuff, 'Mione?" Draco asked her one night, while she was scribbling away at her parchment, the jewelry giving her away yet again.

"Don't call me that," she said stiffly. Being called 'Mione reminded her of Ron, and she didn't want anything of the sort. She continued to stare down at her parchment, aware that Malfoy was still watching her with interest. He had never called her a nickname before, and she could tell he was a little frustrated at being shot down so immediately.

"And, why, might I ask, am I not allowed to call you your established nickname?" he asked, slightly offended. Hermione refused to look up, maddeningly enough.

"Hermione!" he said, louder.

She glanced up, and caught eyes with Draco, who was gazing at her with his usual intensity, but it was slightly softened by something other than his usual malice. It was curiosity.

It had been almost two weeks since their heated make-out session that McGonagall interrupted, and there had been no mention whatsoever of the kisses, but Hermione and Draco were remarkably comfortable with each other. They helped each other with homework, they ate meals together, they even, sporadically, exchanged thoughts through the jewelry. It was such an intimate move, however, that they rarely felt comfortable enough to actually think something while looking into each others eyes. And, Hermione thought uncomfortably, his eyes were so intense and piercing that she really couldn't form a coherent thought with him looking in her eyes.

This moment was much like the rest. Her normally perfectly organized thoughts scattered when his stormy eyes caught her warm ones and she completely forgot the subject at hand.

"Huh?" she asked. Malfoy shook his head and smirked.

"Why can't I call you 'Mione?" he asked again, slightly more forcefully.

"I would just rather you didn't," Hermione said shortly. Ron's face flashed in her mind's eye, and she pushed it out, quite roughly. Ron's persistence was a constant annoyance to her now, especially since he just didn't seem like the same person since he had called her a Mudblood. The mere fact that he thought he could make up for it irked her.

But after all, she had sort of forgiven Malfoy, hadn't she?

"Malfoy," she said aloud suddenly, "Why did you stop calling me Mudblood?"

He stared at her questioningly. "Do you want the truth, Granger?" he asked.

She snorted. "I would prefer it."

He rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, considering his answer. "Well, I wasn't born this horrible, you see," he began. Hermione laughed. "My father ingrained all sorts of horrible things into my mind. Muggle-borns are below us, we're the Wizarding world royalty, and the Dark Lord should run with entire Wizarding world. But my mother was always sort of mild in those aspects. Sure, she thought she was one of the best women in the Wizarding world, but she would never call someone a Mudblood to their face."

Hermione felt awfully uncomfortable. She knew everything he was saying was true, but they hadn't spoken about his mother since she died. She wasn't sure if he was going to lose control or not. "So, I guess when my mother died, so did my father's customs. Once my mother died, I decided to completely and totally go against everything my father told me. So, once I dropped the hatred of Muggle-borns, I started to realize that, while you're an annoying know-it-all," Hermione smiled endearingly at him, "You really aren't a bad person at all. In fact, you're quite remarkable."

She blushed incredibly, and he stood up, as though he was going to make his exit. But Hermione stood up.

"You know….Draco, you're a pretty remarkable person too."

He turned around and strode up to her so fast she barely had any time to back up with a gasp. She stopped after two steps and held her ground, thinking if she held her ground he would stop. But instead, he pressed himself as close to her person as he could get, holding her tight about the waist.

"I'm a terrible person Granger," he said roughly, and the darkness in his eyes made her for a second believe him. "I'm a Death Eater, my mother's dead because of me, I'm ruining your friendships, and I don't even have friends of my own." He moved his hands to her arms and gripped them tightly. "Everyone thinks I'm a terrible person. Therefore, I am."

Hermione shook his hands off and pushed him lightly. "You, Draco Malfoy, are NOT a bad person. You loved your mother. Your father killed her, NOT you. You completely dropped all Death Eater beliefs. You denounced Voldemort. And as for my friendships, all you did was make Ron jump to conclusions, which he does anyway. Our friendships have always had their ups and downs. You had nothing to do with that. And the only reason you don't have friends of your own is because you denounced Voldemort and most of your former friends were the children of Death Eaters. That is NOT YOUR FAULT."

"But if I had just listened to my father—"

She pushed him again. "NO! If you had listened to your bloody father, you would be a bloody Death Eater now, and you would be bloody unbearable to me! If you were a bad person, I wouldn't be spending this much time and energy proving to you that you weren't!"

She reached up and ran her fingers over his smooth cheek lightly. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.

"Granger," he said softly.

"My name," she said equally quietly, "is Hermione. Feel free to call me that." She pressed her lips to his softly, gently, and he smirked a little.

"Can I call you 'Mione?" he asked. Hermione looked at the ground and frowned.

"Anything but that."

"Why not?"

"That's what Ron calls me," she answered softly. She didn't want to admit that hearing her nickname roll of his tongue was so much more intimate and sensual when he said it, rather than the clumsy way Ron did.

"Right. The bloody fool." Hermione glanced up at him, and he smirked a little playfully at her.

"Can I call you a name?" he asked tentatively. "My own nickname?"

Hermione smiled. "Go for it."

He screwed up his eyes adorably in thought. "Well, Herm sounds too much like germ, and that's gross," she laughed. "What about Mia?'

"Mia," she said, letting the word ring in the air for a few seconds. "I like it." She stepped closer to him again, and instead of backing away, he looked down at her, amused. "So do I get to call you a nickname?" she asked.

"No."

Hermione frowned, sticking out her bottom lip slightly. Malfoy resisted the urge to smile. "Why not?"

"Just because."

She pressed herself entirely against his hard Quidditch toned body. "Not even Drake?" she asked, whispering the name.

He didn't move away from her, but closed his eyes a little too long to just be a blink.

"No, Mia."

She wiggled her hips against his, and wrapped her arms around his neck, mussing his hair from behind. She pressed her soft lips to the underside of his jaw. "Pleeeeease?" she asked, drawing out the word and breathing it against his skin.

"Fine," he gasped. "Mercy, call me what ever you want!"

She smiled and stepped away from him. He stared at her for a second. "Now wait a minute," he said. She took a step back and he lunged at her.

"You can't just do that and walk away," he said, holding her waist tightly. He had her held so tight that her feet were barely touching the floor, and she smiled mischievously at him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and kissed him roughly. He ran a hand through her hair and held the back of her neck, tangled in her hair and all, and pulled her even closer.

The jewelry, which seemed dormant for way too long, kicked in with a vengeance. Hermione forgot anything and everything she had in her mind before and all she could focus on was the blonde boy that currently had her pressed up against the wall. She opened her eyes for a moment, and the jewelry (or that's what she told herself) made her whole body tremble at the sight.

Draco's hair was tangled and messy and falling into his incredible eyes. His lips were bruised and swollen, and the smirk on his face was so contagious, it felt like her own. This time, instead of attacking her lips, he dove at her neck, determined to leave her another hickey, like the one that had taken three days to disappear. She leaned her head back to give him better access and suddenly, the whole spell was broken.

Someone was watching them.

Hermione pulled away from Draco as fast as she could. So fast, in fact, she almost hit the floor as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist. He looked at her questioningly, but she didn't say anything. She looked straight into his eyes. This was not the time for words aloud.

_Someone was watching us. _

_Don't be paranoid. No one can get in here._

_I'm sure of it. _

_Well, we'll just have to look then, won't we?_

So they searched the entire Heads Tower, including the bedrooms. There was no one there. And yet, Hermione was absolutely sure there had been someone watching them. Draco never strayed from the mantra "No one can get in here", and in a way, she was glad for his stability.

Too bad she had seen a pair of eyes, much like Draco's, staring at her from across the room.

A/N: OOOOOH! So, how was that? Sorry again, that it took me sooooooo long to update. I had terrible writers block for the longest time, and I just kind of broke the wall down. So, pretty pretty pretty please review!


	11. Too Close

A/N: Ok, so as of right now, I've only had six reviews for this chapter. LAME! But, it's ok. Normally, I would wait it out and make you suffer because some of my readers decided not to review. BUT! Unarosaesunarosa reviewed. You can thank her. Because I absolutely LOVE her! And congrats on the Valentines date and everything. That sounds SO CUTE! So, I'm going to borrow that concept. If you don't mind. =)

Disclaimer: Sigh, how I wish it was mine. I would make Tom Felton sign a contract that would entail him to walk around my house naked.

Chapter Eleven: Too Close

The day had arrived. The day where everything was supposed to go right. But, as Hermione zipped up her scarlet dress, she had a sinking feeling everything was going to go wrong. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did. Draco knew how she felt too, but he was ignoring it, hoping his nonchalance would calm her down. And in a way it did expel a few of her fears, but the underlying worry was still evident with the help of the jewelry. He knew what she had seen, and he was pondering how on earth it was possible.

Hermione floated pensively downstairs, hoping to have a few seconds of peace before Draco emerged. There was no such luck. Draco was already sitting at the couch, twirling his wand between his fingers. He was dressed in head to toe black, a typical Draco move, and the inside of his costume-like cape was green.

"Oh, come on Draco," Hermione said faux-exasperated. "We have to somewhat match!"

Her dress was scarlet and spaghetti strapped, the collar and bottom hem gold lace. The long skirt swept the floor elegantly with a classy slit up the side to her knee. Draco, when he spotted her, whistled softly. She smirked. He waved his wand lazily and suddenly, her scarlet and gold dress was green and black. She looked affronted.

"No way!" she said, waving her own wand. His whole outfit turned scarlet, and the inside of his cape gold.

He looked down at himself and laughed, a full, sincere laugh Hermione had hardly ever heard before. It made her chest ache in a good way, and her lips curled upward in spite of herself.

"I look ridiculous, Mia," he said, waving his wand again. It went back to the original style, and Hermione's dress changed from scarlet to black, and the lace changed from gold to scarlet. She waved her wand, and the inside of his cape changed to match the lace on her dress.

"I like it…Drake," she said, using the nickname for the first time. He smiled and winked.

"You know what?" he said cautiously, as though she could take his statement as a compliment or an insult. "You look really good in black."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You do too," she said breathily. Draco kissed her lips softly. She pulled away and smiled at him wickedly.

"How are you going to cover that hickey on your neck when you see Pansy?" she asked coyly. Draco covered his neck immediately, and Hermione burst out laughing. The angry red mark had been there since yesterday, and Draco and Hermione hadn't emerged from the Heads Tower all day, delegating all the decorating to the prefects.

He pointed his wand at his neck and the hickey faded a little, but didn't disappear. He tried it again, and nothing happened.

"Looks like I'm just going to have to hope Pansy doesn't notice, huh?" he said, chuckling a little.

"That's your only hope, Drake," Hermione said, tugging him toward the portrait hole. "We're going to be late."

But he didn't budge. He pulled his arm back a little and Hermione came with it, almost smashing into his perfect chest. He pulled her close and kissed her slowly, tenderly. When she finally pulled back, he was smiling a crooked smile he had never smiled before.

"I know you're nervous about what you saw," he said, speaking slowly, "But I promise you, Mia, that nothing will hurt you. I will find out what's going on, ok? So you can forget about it. Don't let it worry you."

A rush of affection shook Hermione for a moment. "I'll try," she whispered.

Draco's normal smirk was back. "Then let's party,"

The party had yet to start when Draco and Hermione emerged together. Everyone stared, and Draco could feel the waves of awkwardness and discomfort radiating off of Hermione, and tightened his arm around her wrist for a second before letting go. She glanced toward Potty and Weasel, who both looked stricken. Potty's girlfriend, Weaselette, looked curious and winked at Hermione, who smiled a small smile in response.

Draco himself scanned the crowd for a second before he locked eyes with Pansy. She looked furious, and Malfoy had to stifle a laugh.

They had stopped in the middle of the dance floor. The music, which had been conspicuously absent before, started slowly with only violins.

"Opening the ball tonight are the Head Boy and Girl," said a disembodied and musical voice, and Hermione and Draco stepped close to each other, something they were already comfortable doing. The second Draco's hand touched Hermione's waist and Hermione's hand touched Draco's shoulder, the music sped to a maniac place.

And suddenly, Hermione was spinning and Draco had her pulled close and spun with her, and sent her twirling again. Her skirt flared out whenever he let her turn, and her face was pink with excitement. They were separated and almost instantaneously, pulled close again. The violins sped up, louder and louder, and they moved faster and faster, the bracelet clanging against Hermione's wrist and the ring glinted on Draco's hand. There were no thoughts exchanged. They didn't need them.

He spun her and she let go of him, twirling gracefully before coming back into his arms perfectly. They moved as one. Suddenly, the violins ceased.

And the music slowed a little, and Draco dipped Hermione so low her outstretched hand touched the floor, and swung her up so her nose was touching his. The music changed again. Now Hermione turned herself so she had her back to Draco and he was still holding one of her hands. She stepped backwards into his embrace and he wrapped an arm around her.

He let her go, and she stepped away, a small smirk on her face. He reached out for her hand and, with one final crescendo of the music, pulled her so her body was flush against his, and pulled her leg up almost to his waist, something so reminiscent of their latest make out session that Hermione blushed.

And all music stopped.

The cheers were deafening. Even McGonagall was smiling. Ginny was clapping enthusiastically, Harry somewhat reluctantly, and Ron was gaping. Pansy was nowhere to be seen, but that just made the moment even better. Hermione tugged on Draco's arm and led him to her friends, something he wasn't very happy about.

"Hermione, that was amazing!" Ginny said, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck the second she was within reach. Draco smirked.

"Yeah, 'Mione," Ron said quietly. "I never knew you could dance like that."

Draco's smirk grew even wider with Hermione's response. "Me neither." He felt her mentally cringe at the use of her nickname, and had to bite his tongue to keep from calling her Mia.

"You were really good," Harry said cautiously, eyeing Malfoy as he hugged Hermione.

"Look, I know what you guys are thinking," Hermione said. "But McGonagall made us come together, and Draco's really not as bad as you think," but she was cut off.

"Who?" Ron asked, his ears pink.

"Draco," Hermione repeated slowly, as though Ron was mentally challenged. "Draco Malfoy!?" she pointed at Draco, who raised an eyebrow at her, as though asking her where she was going with this.

Harry looked like he wanted to run from the mounting tension, and Ginny looked around as though looking for something else to catch her attention.

"Why are you calling him 'Draco'?" Ron asked, his fingers sketching quotation marks around Malfoy's first name. Harry groaned.

"That's his name, Ronald!" Hermione said sarcastically. Ron looked uncomfortable at the use of his full name. "Do you want me to call you Weasley? Oh right, I already did. When you called me a MUDBLOOD!"

Ron's whole face almost matched his hair. "I SAID I WAS SORRY! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to strangle him. "Maybe you shouldn't have said it at all," she said quietly, dangerously. Draco could feel her rage building, and was amazed she was keeping it contained.

"But I did. What, are you not going to be my girlfriend ever again because I called you a name?" he said angrily.

Draco clenched his fists at the word 'girlfriend'. Hermione closed her eyes, and the rage increased tenfold. He touched her arm. "Don't Mia," he whispered as quietly as possible, so Ron wouldn't be able to hear him.

She seemed to calm at the sound of her new nickname, but Ron didn't. He seized her wrist, and she cried out in pain. The bracelet moved up her arm a little, exposing the serpent on her hand. Draco's own wrist felt uncomfortable, but he shook it off and drew his wand, pointing it at Ron's livid face.

"Let her go, Weasel," he said, low and dangerous. Harry jumped forward, but Ginny stopped him. She was staring at Draco curiously. Ron glared at Malfoy, but let Hermione go, and she grabbed her own wrist, looking from Draco to Ron uncertainly.

"Stop it, Drake," she said soothingly, laying a hand on his tense shoulder. At her touch, he lowered his wand. She looked up at Ginny, who was standing next to Harry. She nodded slowly to her, a silent understanding that she would tell her everything soon enough. Harry was talking to Ron, trying to calm him down.

"I think it's time for us to go," Hermione said quietly to Draco, who nodded. But on their way to the Great Hall doors, they were stopped again, this time by Pansy.

"Please tell me McGonagall made you bring her," she spat, twitching in Hermione's general direction.

"Pansy," Draco said, stepping towards her. Pansy immideately tried to kiss him, and Hermione's anger made Draco smirk. He held her back. "I think I should tell you that I cheated on you several times over the summer, when my family went to France." Pansy's face went pink, but she shook it off.

"It's ok, Drakie," she said, her hands coming up to his hair and smoothing it back, the way he used to have it in fourth year. "I forgive you."

Draco looked filled with remorse, but on the inside, he was calm. Hermione could tell he was lying. "But I don't forgive myself. You can do so much better than me, so I'm going to save you the trouble. Goodbye," he said, and he and Hermione turned back to the doors.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Hermione giggled a little. "You really are horrible. That was the fakest breakup I've ever seen."

Draco laughed and tossed his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "I know, right? But at least she bought it." He stopped suddenly. "Lemme see your wrist," he said.

"It's ok, Draco, really," Hermione said, tucking her wrist behind her back. Draco raised an eyebrow at her again, and she rolled her eyes and showed him her wrist.

The bruises that had just healed were coming back, and the serpent on her hand glowed brightly red.

"That bloody bastard," Draco growled. He took her hand, and his cool hand soothed the serpent burning on her hand. He pulled her to a stop and kissed her softly.

"Mia," he began. "I have a question for you."

She looked up into his grey eyes for a moment, then pulled him down for a kiss. "Yes," she answered.

He scowled at her. "You take all the fun out of everything."

She smirked back. "Explain how you asking me to be your girlfriend as fun? It sounds horribly awkward to me."

He kissed her forehead. "You think too much."

And as soon as they walked into the Head's Tower, they knew something was wrong.

A/N: LONGEST CHAPTER EVER! You're welcome.  Now you have to review.


	12. Gone

A/N: Unarosaesunarosa! I totally love you! Thank you so much for all the reviewing and all the speculation! I actually use a lot of your ideas!

Disclaimer: Me and unarosaesunarosa share custody of Tom Felton. Whenever her boyfriend's around, I get him. Whenever my boyfriend's around, she gets him. =)

Chapter twelve: Gone

The Tower was demolished. Clothes, dishes, cushions, bed sheets, books, homework, everything was strewn all over the floor in the common room. Draco and Hermione gaped as they tried to navigate throughout the room. The couch had been completely overturned, and the coffee table was missing a leg. The kitchen area of the extravagant Tower had pots and pans littered across the linoleum tile, and broken glass glittered everywhere.

"Someone was in here," Hermione said quietly, picking up some of her clothes off the floor. Draco stayed silent, waving his wand to repair the broken leg of the table, and started sorting rolls of parchment on it.

"Draco," Hermione said again. He looked up at her slowly. "I think it was the same person I saw." She looked away quickly, as though his contradiction was expected. But none came. There was only silence. When she looked back up, Draco was looking at her curiously.

"Mia," Draco said tentatively, hoping she would keep her cool. "You're absolutely sure you saw someone?"

Hermione stared at him. "Yes."

She went to the couch and collapsed onto it, her dress riding up to about mid-thigh. Draco swallowed thickly and sat down next to her, and she immediately buried her head in his chest, her shoulder shaking with silent sobs. He wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders and pulled her onto his lap. Her small arms wrapped themselves around his strong torso, and he stroked her hair softly as she cried.

"Mia," he said quietly. "I told you nothing was going to happen to you."She looked up at him, surprised. "So I'm going to take care of this."

"Draco, you can't!" Hermione protested, moving away. Draco's arms fell from around her. "You don't even know who did it!"

He raised a hand to her hair and brushed it absentmindedly. "It has to be my father,"

She stared again. Now that he had voiced his opinion, she knew he was right. No one else would be devious enough to spy on his own child. This was the same man that had no qualms about killing his wife and torturing his son. It was amazing how much conviction was in those six words. He said it like he wanted to kill him. And as soon as the thought entered her mind, she knew that's what he intended. He was going to kill his own father. And, as Hermione sat there and thought, maybe Lucius Malfoy did deserve the ironic undoing of his own son wielding his death. The thought made her slightly nauseous, but also slightly triumphant too.

"I'll go with you," she said, standing up to face him. He followed her movements, almost a head taller than she, and frowned down at her. There was uncertainty in his beautiful eyes, and a little bit of pride. He surveyed her own face hungrily, like he would never see it again.

"You can't come with me, Mia," he said gently. "He'll kill you. I can't let that happen."

"But I want to help!" she protested. The bracelet flared a little on her wrist, and she hurried to add, "I've been on loads of adventures with Harry and Ron, and I did fine there too!"

Malfoy was already shaking his head. "No, Mia. This is my father we're talking about. If a Muggle-born even sets foot in our home, he'll kill you." He ran his fingers through his hair, troubled. "I know you can handle this. I just don't want you to get hurt. Is that too much to ask?"

Hermione sat back down on the couch and listed while Draco rattled off another twenty or so reasons why Hermione was absolutely not going to come when he went to the Manor. She relented and assumed Malfoy was planning on going to the Manor during Christmas break. However, when she heard the common room door slam around midnight that night, she knew he had gone.

Soon the bracelet was tugging at her, urging her to find Malfoy. He was getting outside the bracelet's range. All she could feel was poorly disguised fear in small waves, until it was gone all together. Now her mind felt oddly empty, and she started pacing and talking aloud. She felt like a lunatic, but it distracted her from the hole in her chest.

"He's going to be ok. He's going to be fine. I've lost my sanity. Why did he have to leave?" she repeated the four sentences over and over again while she paced in her room until she started crying.

She wasn't sure why she was crying, but it had to do to with the wretched feeling in her chest, the place where the feelings from the ring used to be felt oddly empty. She sobbed, clutching at her chest hopelessly, trying to get back the security she felt when there was someone else's feelings there that kept her alert to her own.

She curled into a ball on the floor and her whole body shook with sobs until they suddenly stopped. She looked at the bracelet. She could feel small waves. Waves of something indiscernible, but it was bad. She could feel bad. As soon as the feelings became stronger, she started gasping. She couldn't breathe. She could feel pain. Mind-numbing, heart-wrenching physical pain.

And Malfoy stumbled into the room, his robes dripping something dark on the floor, and Hermione was on her feet, trying desperately to stay conscious, but for some reason she couldn't quite understand her vision was going dark and fuzzy around the edges. She swayed, but managed to stay on her feet until she could reach Draco and hug him close.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked hopelessly. "What did he do to you?"

Draco reached up and touched her face, leaving a streak of blood behind. There was a gash on his cheek but he was still perfect. He was still her Draco.

"He got to me, Mia," he whispered. "He knows. And he's going to get to you too." He staggered a little, and his breathing came in shorter breaths.

"Draco, he can't get me here," she said reassuringly. "I'll be ok, calm down. Breath for me, ok?"

Draco took a rattled breath, and his eyes rolled back in his head, and fell. Hermione felt the pain. All of the pain he had tried to keep hidden while conscious came at her like a steamroller and she fell to her knees with a piercing scream. How anyone could live through physical and emotional pain like this was beyond her, it was pure agony.

And before her vision went black, she saw the formidable figure of Professor McGonagall bending over her and Draco.

Draco awoke in the hospital wing and gasped loudly. His hands jumped to his chest as he struggled for breath. He looked down at his hands, and of course, the ring was gone. Hermione shot up next to him and reacted in much the same way, squeaking a little when she noticed the bracelet gone. Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain, looking hurried but calm, but stopped at the distressed sight of her two patients.

"Where are the ring and the bracelet?" Draco wheezed, his hands now on his throat.

"I believe I have what you're looking for," said a serene voice behind the curtain. And Dumbledore stepped around the curtain, holding the jewelry in his wizened hands. Hermione held out her hands for it instantly, tears running down her cheeks silently. Draco mirrored her, minus the tears.

Dumbledore kept his eyes on the jewelry, curious. "I would like to keep these for a little while to examine them," he said gently. "I would like to try to understand the magic that fuels them."

"Professor," Hermione whimpered. "Please. I need that bracelet." Dumbledore looked at her quizzically, and a few more tears ran down her cheeks. "Please."

He obliged, fastening the bracelet around her wrist and handing Draco the ring. The second the ring was secure, his burn mark on his palm burned fiercely, and she sobbed a little. He could feel her pain, and she could feel his. But the pain was so much better than feeling nothing.

"Curious," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. "Very curious."


End file.
